


The Herald of Fereldan

by homicidalphone



Series: The Herald of Fereldan [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Canon-Typical Problematic Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Dragon Age Spoilers, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Long-Distance Relationship, Mahariel/Leliana DA2-esque Rivalry, Other, Post-Dragon Age II, Post-Dragon Age: Origins, Post-Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening, Separation Anxiety, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2018-11-02 19:59:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10951665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/homicidalphone/pseuds/homicidalphone
Summary: After saving the world from the Blight and being shit on for setting Amaranthine on fire, Lowri Mahariel abandons the Grey Wardens and changes her name in an attempt to keep herself and Zevran safe from the Crows. She managed to stay undercover as Lowri Lavellan until the Conclave was called and her new Keeper forced her to scope the place out. That “being surrounded by the humans might give her a new perspective." Through a series of unfortunate events, Lowri is now once again tasked with saving the shems' world and holding their hands through the ordeal. But how long will it take for the “Herald of Andraste” to be recognized as the “Hero of Fereldan”?





	1. Hero's Path

Lowri sat back on her ankles. The room smelled like a shem prison dungeon and looked like a shem dungeon and, green light erupted from her left hand and she groaned, felt like a shem dungeon. At least this time Howe soldiers or Fort Drakon guards weren’t trying to kill her. To her understanding that was. 

The four guards that stood around her holding blades hadn’t moved for a while. How long had it been? An hour? Two hours? The only source of light in the dank room were the few candles that dotted the far corners of the room and Lowri didn’t care enough to pay attention to how quickly they burned. All she knew was that these guards were shems and shems get tired. Eventually someone would have to relieve them. 

She stared at the door in front of her and puffed her blonde bangs out of her face. Over the time of however long she had been sitting there, the short wisps of hair along her hair line had fallen out of the loose bun that sat at the nap of her neck. And, by the Creators, was the hair irritating. She kept it long in memory of Tamlen, her first love that she had lost nearly a decade ago at the start of the Fifth Blight. Plus she enjoyed Zevran’s constant compliments about it. But that, by no means, meant that she didn’t have her moments where she wanted to get rid of it all. Earlier she had cursed the chain that connected her restraints to the ground for being too short to let her brush her bangs back. Her guards didn’t seem to react to the Elvish swears and remained as stoic as ever. 

More light erupted from her hand and it caught her off guard. Lowri gasped for air the door opened. 

“Ma emma ha-” she snarled her threat when the door was completely, as the dark-haired female shem in purple leather stomped into the room “-rel.” She faltered when a familiar face appeared behind the angry one: Leliana. 

Shit. Would the red-head blow her cover?

Years ago Lowri Lavellan had actually been Lowri Mahariel; Commander of the Gray Wardens and Hero of Fereldan and Slayer of the Archdemon and Destroyer of Amaranthine and the accolades went on and on and on. Not long after burning Amaranthine, angry “rumors” spread about her “hating shems” and “enjoying killing shems” and even that she had somehow “defiled the Ashes of Andraste.” Granted, these were all true statements, but that was not the point. The point was that now she had a legitimate reason for leaving the Gray Wardens. She had spent a few months trying to leave the organization amicably but whiny shems whine and proved time and time again that even powerful political shems were useless. Like that blond templar shem that had been locked behind a barrier in the Fereldan Circle, damn what was his name? Anyway, absolutely useless.

Finally, she was able to leave the Wardens. She and Zevran had travelled around for a while, looking for a quiet area that didn’t recognize Lowri. Quiet didn’t last long, the Crows had caught up with them and they agreed that splitting up until the Crows lost their scent would be safest for both of them. For extra insurance, neither told the other where they were planning on going. Lowri had no idea where her love was or if he was even still alive. She had opted to travel to the northern stretches of the Free Marches and happened ran into Clan Lavellan. Fortunately, while they had heard stories of the Hero of Fereldan, no one knew what she looked like and they bought her lie about not remembering where she came from. 

The only thing that she had loathed about her new clan was how they “respected” the shems in the nearby village. She did nothing to keep her hatred hidden and when the Conclave had been called to sort out this mess between the mages and the templars, her new Keeper had insisted that she went. That “being surrounded by the humans might give her a new perspective” or some shit. Explaining why she couldn’t go would have blown her cover, so, very reluctantly, Lowri dragged her feet to the Conclave. 

Now it seems like the Creators were mocking her. She felt like she had walked out of one trap and into another. She clenched her jaw. Leliana had always been an excellent bard and Lowri had heard rumors that she was going by some fancy title like The Left Hand of the Divine. They had parted ways after Alistair’s coronation at the end of the Blight, but did Leliana have the resources to keep tabs on her? 

The purple shem stomped around Lowri in what was probably a miserable attempt at trying to be intimidating. Ignoring her, Lowri sucked her teeth and locked eyes with her old friend. Friend was a loose word, travel companion was more like it, Leliana had not been happy with Lowri’s decision to desecrate the Ashes but she had been quickly intimidated down when Lowri argued that the shems had taken everything from her people time and time again and that quietly losing an artifact that was already lost was the least that a shem could do. There may have also been death threats. But she was more of a friend than this angry, unknown shem.

Leliana approached quickly while the purple shem hissed in Lowri’s ear: “Tell me why we-” Leliana winked, her cover was safe for now, “shouldn’t kill you now?” Purple Shem stood up straight again and began pacing, “The Conclave is destroyed, everyone who attended it is dead,” Purple Shem pushed a leathery, purple finger in Lowri’s face and wagged it between words, “except for you.”

Lowri sucked on her teeth harder before she spat on the ground to her right, but remained quiet. She was not going to let a shem interrogate her. She didn’t owe them answers. This did not amuse her captor who grabbed the hand that continuously erupted in green light and pain. “Explain this.” The pain flared up again as the green lightning bounced out of her palm. Unfortunately, Lowri couldn’t answer even if she felt obliged to. She had no idea what it was or why it got there. She couldn’t even remember how she had gotten into this dreary little dungeon room. In fact, she had no memory after leaving Clan Lavellan in the woods. Purple Shem threw Lowri’s arm down and circled her once more. When all Lowri did was blow her hair out of her face again, her wannabe interrogator grabbed her shoulder with one hand and held a recently sharpened knife to her throat, “Explain what it is!”

This was when Leliana stepped in. She grabbed Purple Shem by the arm, pulling her up and pushing her backwards, towards the door. 

“We need her Cassandra.” So that was Purple Shem’s name. Cassandra. Lowri snorted. They better not need her. As soon as she got the opportunity she was out of here, out of Clan Lavellan, and back to being on her own until she met up with Zev again. Her blue eyes shot from Leliana to Cassandra then back to Leliana under furrowed brows as Leliana turned on her heels and walked back toward the elf, face softening slightly. “Do you remember what happened? How this began?” Her tone was harsh and cold, the bard still remembered how to play a character. 

There was an itch at the back of Lowri’s mind. She was remembering something but she didn’t understand what the memory was. If one could even call it that. It was more of a feeling than anything else. 

“There was running?” Lowri paused and closed her eyes tight before continuing, “And a woman?” 

“A woman?” Leliana leaned back and crossed her arms. The both of them ignoring the pacing being done by Cassandra out of the corners of their eyes. 

“She reached out to me but then-” She couldn’t remember what happened then. Pain, the smell of smoke and burnt flesh? Remembering at this point didn’t seem to matter much. Cassandra had already lost her patience and stepped between the two of them. She pushed Leliana back towards the door and whispered something that was only barely audible. Something about a camp? A rift? Even if it had been loud enough for Lowri to hear, she wasn’t paying attention. She was too busy trying to figure out these feeling-memories that didn’t feel like her own. They were like a dream or someone else’s memories. 

Leliana hesitated before nodding and leaving the room. Lowri’s attention was only snapped back to the present when Cassandra started to remove the restraints. She considered running, fighting off Cassandra. Too bad it wouldn’t have just been Cassandra, it would be Cassandra, the four guards, Leliana, and whoever else was outside that door. Too bad Lowri was an archer, and had very little talent for close quarters combat. 

“Follow me. Stay close. I will show you what happened.” Cassandra barked the short orders while tying Lowri’s wrists together with a piece of thick rope and pulled her to her feet. She turned quickly, stamped to the door, and pushed it open without messing a step. Lowri, on the other hand, was left to stumble out of the prison room. By the Creators, she had to have been sitting on her knees for at least an hour. Warm blood burned as it flooded into her feet and toes and putting her weight on her shins made them ache as she hobbled forward. She cringed at how quickly the room filled with light and how slowly her eyes adjusted. She only made it a few steps before something above her crackled loudly and blinded her with a green light. The same shade of green that had leapt out of her hand and shot searing pain up her forearm. But this green wasn’t accompanied by pain. It wasn’t coming from her hand at all. She turned her head to face Cassandra and followed her gaze up. This green was in the sky. “We call it the Breach.” Cassandra paused, still looking up, “It is a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour.” She looked over her shoulder, “it’s not the only such rift, just the largest,” She took a step towards Lowri who took a step back, “All were caused by the explosion at the Conclave.”

Lowri remained silent. This was not the first tear in the Veil that she had encountered. As the Warden-Commander she had traveled to the Blackmarsh in search of another Warden that was supposed to be in the area. He ended up being dead. The marsh had once been ruled by a powerful Orlesian blood mage that violently pulled her subjects into the Beyond when they turned on her. This extreme use of magic weakened the Veil and caused trouble for her party. Those tears closed on their own when the associated demons around the tear were destroyed. Surely these tears were no different? 

Lowri put her weight on one foot, ultimately unimpressed. She wasn’t needed here. Leliana was smart enough to figure this out and this brutish Cassandra could easily take down a few demons. Maybe it would even make her feel better, it was obvious that she was trying to compensate for something.

“Unless we act, the Breach may grow until it swallows the world.” Cassandra seemed to believe the nonsense that she was spewing but Lowri didn’t and rolled her eyes. That still didn’t explain why she needed to be here, why Leliana had said that they needed her. She had already saved the world twice, she had already been caught up in shem problems, shem politics, twice, and there was no need to be dragged into a third. She had no desire to be dragged into something like this again.

A thunderous crack came from the Breach as it grew bigger and brighter and with it her hand seared with pain. This was the second time the damned thing had caught her off guard and she cried out again. This was the worst one yet and Lowri fell to her knees, tears streaming across her face as she fell to her side on the snow-covered ground. It felt as if the pain went on forever as she clenched the back of her palm with her other hand and ground her face into the snow. Cassandra yelled over her cries,

“Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads and it is killing you.”

Lowri called out in with one final scream before relaxing into the snow and muttering Elvish curses between shaky breaths, “Ar tu na’din len’ala lath’din.” 

Ignoring the whimpering Cassandra continued, “The mark may be the key to stopping this.”

The pain subsided slowly, creeping away at a pace much slower than Lowri liked. Quickly drawing air in through her nose and exhaling out her mouth, she pulled her hands close to her and tucked her knees in tight. She didn’t look at Cassandra. She stared ahead blankly, biting the inside of her cheek as she thought. She was pissed. The Taint was already killing her, now she had this insistent glowing mark trying to consume her body? Fuck. She groaned and closed her eyes, “I don’t really have a choice about this, do I?” 

“None of us have a choice.” Cassandra said sharply before grabbing Lowri by the back of her shirt and dragging her to her feet and pushed her forward through the series of tents. Lowri glared during the whole interaction and fought the urge to spit at the shem again. The disrespect. The gall. If only she knew who she was. 

Humans stepped out of the tents as they walked by. Every single one of them looking broken or angry. Good. Maybe one of the bumbling idiots would start a fight with her and then Lowri would have an excuse to kill them all. All days that shems die are good days, except for maybe this one. There were too many bodies for Lowri to be able to get away with intimidating the group. Someone might still be able to rally the rest and then it wouldn’t be the darkspawn poison seeping through her veins or the mark that felt like it was ripping her hand apart that would kill her. 

“They have decided your guilt,” Cassandra started, still pushing Lowri along. “They need it. The people of Haven mourn Our Most Holy Divine Justinia, Head of the Chantry. The Conclave was hers. It was a chance for mages and tem-” As soon as they had cleared the rows of tents Lowri ripped herself out of Cassandra’s grasp and spat on the ground by the shem’s feet. Cassandra’s grow furrowed in disgust.

“I’ve…” Seen how you shems treat your mages, no, she couldn’t say that. That would require an explanation, an explanation that would blow her cover and being the Hero of Fereldan right now was not going to get her out of this mess any easier than being Lowri Lavellan, “Why should I care about your shem problem?” she shook her head and dug her fingernails into her palms,” I don’t care about your human organization that has done nothing but take everything from my people time and time again,” her voice grew louder the longer she talked, until she was practically yelling. She sneered the word human, emphasizing the racial difference between herself and this problem. 

Cassandra blew a long breath of air out through her nose. Her cheekbones and the tips of her ears were sprayed with reds and pinks. Whether the shem was embarrassed or pissed, Lowri didn’t much care. She didn’t care about the fate of the world anymore. She saved it before and it caused her nothing but grief. 

“Fucking shems.” Lowri scoffed, turning away. The muscles around Cassandra’s jaw flexed before she lurched forward, pushing Lowri, causing her to fall and roll down the snowy bank a few paces forwards. She stamped her feet as the followed, drawing her sword and pressing the tip into the space between Lowri’s jaw and throat. 

“You!” Cassandra tightened her grip on the handle of the blade, “We lash out but we must think beyond ourselves! Until the Breach is sealed!” The muscles in her jaw still twitched as she held the blade steady. Lowri stared up from the ground, hair matted with snow, clothes wet, large blue eyes unblinking, waiting for Cassandra to make the next move.

Cassandra pushed the tip of the blade a little deeper into Lowri’s neck before pulling it back and sheathing it again. 

“Get up.” She hissed, grabbing the front of Lowri’s shirt, tugging her to her feet and tossing her, not so gently, towards a large wooden gate. 

“Watch your attitude shem, you’re giving me a lot of reasons to kill you and none to keep you alive.” Lowri stumbled forwards, catching herself after a few clunky steps.

“You attack me and the whole mountain will know. There is nowhere for you to run.” Cassandra pushed Lowri again, who staggered and tripped over a rock hidden by the snow. 

“You fucking… I’m going to kill you when I get the chance!” Lowri pushed herself off of the ground and stamped a foot forward, bringing her fingers up to her mouth. She may not have a bow in her to fight with, but she was a proficient Ranger way back when. Hopefully she wasn’t too rusty. 

In one clean motion, Cassandra removed the shield from her back and lunged forward, bashing Lowri back before she could whistle properly. This sent Lowri rolling down the rest of the path. Head spinning, the wind knocked clean out of her, the elf groaned as she lay face down in the snow in front of a large wooden door which was opened by two guards.

Cassandra slid the shield back into place and motioned at the prisoner on the ground. The guards nodded before stepping around Lowri and picking her up by her upper arms. They tightened their grip when she was situated back on her feet. She would later, vaguely, recall growling at one of the guards but wasn’t sure if it actually happened or not. Neither reacted, their hardened eyes watching Cassandra for their next order. Plus it had been a long time since she was properly shield bashed. She had forgotten what it felt like to be so disoriented. 

“The mark must be tested on something smaller than the Breach. Come, it is not far.” Cassandra spoke to the guards rather than to Lowri. 

“You don’t have to talk like I’m not here,” Lowri sneered as Cassandra walked past and through the gate. For the most part her comment was ignored except for being forcibly turned around and pulled along as the four of them crossed the cobbled bridge. 

Cassandra barked a short command and the gate on the other end of the bridge opened to a path that lead upwards. 

Lowri tested the resolve of the guards holding her by trying to twist her arms out of their grasp or by trying to fake them out by walking faster or trying to dig her heels into the frozen dirt. Nothing she did was successful in allowing her to escape. If anything it muddied things up. Her guards opted to lift her up just enough so she had no footing to drop her weight and become some mass too burdensome to pull or push along. 

That lasted until a few paces before the gate at the end of the path. That was when the sky roared into another explosion. The green in Lowri’s palm flared up as pain ripped through her body. As she screamed and grabbed her wrist, the guards dropped her and her knees buckled under her weight. Small clumps of snow bounced up and landed on her legs as she slumped into the earth. Between a few anguished pants she watched as Cassandra backtracked and knelt in front of her. 

“The larger the Breach grows,” the shem took hold of Lowri’s shirt once again, her voice dripping with impatience and irritability “the more rifts appear,” she grunted as she lifted her to her feet, ignoring Lowri’s cries, “the more demons we face,” Cassandra held her still until the guards could secure Lowri’s arms once again and continue push-dragging her up the mountain. 

Half-way across the second cobbled bridge something green exploded. It happened too quickly for Lowri to figure out what it was. Before any of them realized what was going on, her guards, Cassandra, and she were under the rubble and remains of the bridge. Cassandra quickly pulled herself out and Lowri managed to shoulder a large slab of stone off of her body. Her eyes flicked over the piles of debris. One guard was dead. His neck clearly snapped and a sharp, jagged bit of rock protruded out of his chest. The other, Lowri couldn’t be sure, he was too far away and while he had no physical wounds, that didn’t account for internal damage. Another flaming green explosion skid across the landscape before crashing into the frozen water. The smoke cleared revealing what it as: a demon. Cassandra cried something and drew her blade before she ran after it. Lowri wasn’t too sure what had been said. She didn’t care. She was too focused on the bloodied piece of rock that called the dead shems chest home now. 

“Glad we could have this heart to heart,” Lowri joked as she dragged her way to the body and ground her restraints against the uneven stone. She wiggled her fingers and cracked her knuckles as the bindings fell away. This could be a chance to get away. She turned and looked up, expecting to see Cassandra. Instead, she sat face-to-face with another demon. And no weapon. She breathed a curse before jumping backwards over more jagged stones, just out of the demons reach and scanned the area for a weapon. 

She drew her fingers through her blonde hair, irritated and quickly growing frantic that she couldn’t find anything useful to her. That was, until her eye landed on a bow and mostly full quiver about an arm’s length from where she balanced herself on the debris. Everything was cheaply made, there was no passion its creation, just the need for coin, but everything was still intact despite the fall and was, therefore, better than nothing. Without hesitation, she placed an arrow on the bow and drew the sting back. Releasing it, she landed in what she could only assume was the demon’s shoulder, knocking it back, giving her time retreat a few more rocks. Three more arrows, a few more rocks and the demon crumbled apart into a black and green smoke.

“Drop your weapon. Now!” Cassandra spoke clearly and slowly.

Lowri huffed, the gall of this shem, “a demon attacked me,” she rolled her eyes, and “what was I supposed to do?” Her tone was dry and mocked Cassandra’s ability to fight, “you said yourself that there are going to be more demons. You can’t protect me.” Her last few words were almost a laugh. Even the idea that this shem could save her in battle seemed so unrealistic. 

Cassandra was red in the face but said nothing. Her only reaction was the put her sword away and motion for Lowri to walk in front of her, off the ice, and up the hill. 

Stepping on the opposite bank of the river, Lowri bounced on the balls of her feet, testing the integrity of the soil. Frozen, but soft enough to hold an arrow. She waited for Cassandra, who moved slowly across the ice. For a rough and tough warrior, she wasn’t very adaptable in varying environments. When the purple shem finally caught up, Lowri asked a question.

“Where are all the other shems?” 

Cassandra’s eyes narrowed, unhappy with the questions, “At the forward camp, or fighting,” she took a step forward and sighed, “We are on our own for now.”

Without thinking, Lowri gripped her bow, loaded an arrow, and shot it towards Cassandra’s foot. She let out a startled gasp which turned into a growl as Lowri bolted past. The arrow had missed the foot but still managed to pin the boot into the ground and was stuck in tight. 

“I don’t want any part of your stupid shem problem,” Lowri called over her shoulder as she ran up a set of snowy, decrepit steps that lead further up the mountain.


	2. Get to The Rift

Lowri stumbled up the small hill, slipping the snow and mud. Between being flustered from the obvious act of betrayal and nervous with the amount of various demons that dotted the landscape before them, Cassandra made some disgruntled noises behind her. It wouldn’t take her long to pull the arrow out of the ground, or even just snap it in half, and Lowri wanted to be far away when that finally happened. There was no way that she was going to stand being a prisoner. Not again, not when so much of her life now depended on her not being recognized. She didn’t have time to think, to plan a real escape, and being in the bottom of this canyon was not helping. She wasn’t a terrible climber but trees were one thing and wet, icy rocks were another. 

She huffed. A few pesky demons couldn’t be nearly as difficult as the hordes of darkspawn in Denerim, but she wouldn’t be able to take them on alone. She placed a curled finger and her thumb under her tongue and blow a sharp whistle. Hopefully some of the terrains typical fauna was still around despite the explosion. Some large spider, or a bear, if she was lucky. A few heart beats later and nothing. No support and she was out of time. She was just going to have to run and hope. Lowri glanced around for her path through the ravine. At the bottom of the ledge where she stood were a few of the brown, lumbering demons that attacked her and Cassandra before. They hadn’t noticed her yet and hopefully should could out run them. 

Swallowing hard, she nodded, accepting her path, and continued running down the dirt path, jumping over the bodies of a few dead templars that littered the way. She skid to the bed of the river, stumbling when she hit the ice, stopping only long enough to check over her shoulder for anyone behind her. Lowri couldn’t see Cassandra, but she could hear her pathetic war cries and they had caught the attention of the demons. Lowri smirked, while the shem was no bear, she was proving to be just a distracting as one on the battlefield. 

Lowri kept running, down the ice, past another brown demon, and up another flight of stairs. While the cold air was keeping her skin cool and the pain in her hand at bay, it was stinging nose and throat as she continued pushing through the wintery weather. Down more mounds of snow and across the frozen waters and up more flights of stairs.

Around her, more demons crashed down from the sky. There were different from the ones before. Some were green and buzzed around the brown ones, throwing magic at her. She didn’t stop for any of them. Cassandra was still on her tail and the demons were just fodder to get in the way. 

She didn’t stop willingly, that was. A few continued to follow her, not yet aware that Cassandra was right behind, red in the face and hissing like one of Lowri’s giant spiders. A ball of energy slammed into her shoulder as she trudged her way up a long, snow-covered staircase. The burst singed her shirt and the blast pushed her forward, off balance, and she lost her footing on the steps. Feet slipping out from beneath her, Lowri slid back down the staircase a few steps, Cassandra’s roars distracting the demon just long enough for Lowri for climb back into a standing position and run the rest of the way up the staircase, skipping every other step along the way. 

“Stop the prisoner!” Cassandra called out and had she not been running for her life, Lowri may have been impressed by how quickly the warrior took out the demon but that was not the case. There was no telling how quickly someone would discover who she really was. At the moment she was just ‘the prisoner’. Some nobody that no one expected anything out of. She wanted to keep it that way. Unfortunately, despite all of her battle skills and the ability to pick out the little things that people said, she failed to realize that Cassandra was actually yelling at someone and not for the sake of it.

Lowri panted as she ran up the stairs, the air drying her throat out, some muscle in her side stinging as she moved, legs growing heavy. It took her a moment to take in the scene at the top of the stair case. There was a small group of shems, a dwarf, and a mage fighting a handful of demons underneath a green, glowing tear. Each seemed distracted by their own personal demon. Lowri smirked, getting out of this mess was going to be a breeze. She made one last push through the center of the battle.

She had just about gotten to the edge of the battlefield when something rang out behind her, followed by a soft thunk. She tripped and fell face-first into the rocky ground beneath her, unable to move her foot. Lowri rolled herself over the best she could, tugging desperately at the crossbow bolt that pinned her down, cursing the Creators who were probably laughing at her now, her own trick being used against her. She was too busy tugging at the bolt to notice the demon that had taken more of an interest in her than whichever shem it had been fighting before, or maybe it had killed it. She only looked up when another bolt rang through its body and landed to her right.

“Durgen’len,” she snarled. “When I’m-” her threat to wring his neck was cut off when the mage, another elf, grabbed her wrist, the one with the mark, and pulled her to her feet, 

“Quickly, before more come through!” he yelled at her, pushing her hand up towards the rift. The pain was sharp and it felt like something was being pulled out of her, like when she had fallen through a thorn bush and Tamlen and Merrill spent hours pulling thorns out of her arms, shoulders and back. She grimaced but didn’t cry out and as soon as the tear was closed, she ripped hand out of the elf’s grasp and held it close to her.

“What the fuck did you do old man?” No, no, no, no, no, this could not be happening. She refused to believe that she was once again the only person in all of Thedas that could fix this problem and save the world. No. 

“I did nothing,” the elf gestured towards her, or was it towards her hand, “the credit is yours. Old man?”

“Ohoho,” Lowri let out an uneasy laughter, “oh you mean this. This thing, this whatever it is, I don’t want it. I don’t want to save the world,” Again, “and the last bald elf I met was,” Zathrian, or was it Tamlen. Tamlen had been so young though, so full of life, no she promised herself she wouldn’t think about it anymore, the hunter was years dead, “really old.” She really couldn’t say more. That clan picked up some notoriety for helping the Hero of Fereldan during the Blight. She couldn’t risk someone seeing the connection.

“Whatever magic opened the breach in the sky may have also placed that mark upon your hand-” the mage-elf continued.

“I don’t want it,” she pushed her palm towards the elf, “get it out, take it out, I refuse.” 

Cassandra groaned behind her and the mage-elf paused for a moment.

“I… cannot. It seems you hold the key to our salvation, whether you like it or not. My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I am pleased to see you still live.” So the elf-mage was Solas. Lowri nodded. The elf was old but wore no vallaslin, a flat-ear perhaps. Lowri had no disdain for the city elves, the closest thing she felt was pity. Pity that they could not live outside of shem rules and regulations.  
Solas’ statement offered no consolation though. Lowri let her hand fall back to her side and pushed on her forehead with the other. Her mind was racing. This wasn’t like the Blackmarsh. This wasn’t going to a simple as running away. Things weren’t going to work themselves out and she wasn’t going to see Zevran for a very long time. That was, unless playing hero was tempting fate too much this time around. This time there was no Zevran. No Morrigan and Alistair for him to talk into making some deity baby to save her from her suicide mission. For the first time in years, she was alone again. The idea made her breath was shaky and her eyes stung.

“Good to know, here I thought we would be ass deep in demons together.” The dwarf spoke out, breaking the tense silence as he made his way towards the group. “Varric Tethras: rogue, storyteller, and occasionally, unwelcomed tagalong.” Cassandra groaned, she seemed to dislike Varric. Lowri drew a deep breath through her nose. Maybe the enemy of an enemy could be a friend.

“Your help is appreciated Varric but-” Cassandra started but Varric cut her off.

“Have you been in the valley lately, Seeker? Your soldiers aren’t in control anymore. You need me.” Cassandra almost looked convinced. Lowri wondered how hard the shem was thinking, if she was even capable of thinking at all. She sighed and looked down. Her foot was still pinned to the frozen dirt. 

“The dirty little durgen’len caught your prisoner when you failed to,” Lowri grumbled. She motioned at the crossbow bolt. It felt wrong, her own trick used against her, and arguing for why someone should be allowed to tagalong. That was her decision to make, she should have final say. She ground her teeth. It would be so easy to demand the respect she deserved, to put this shem in her place, to humiliate her, and all Lowri had to do was say out loud that she was the Hero of Fereldan and… and then… no, that would be painting a target on her back. On Zevran’s back. She was Lowri Lavellan, some nobody scout from a clan up in the Free Marches, not Lowri Mahariel. Not for now at least. 

The group looked at Cassandra. She turned sharply on her heels and hissed:

“We must get to the forward camp, quickly.”

-

It did not take them long to reach Leliana at the forward camp, the entire journey was spent mostly in silence, with the occasional grunt from Cassandra or hiss from Lowri as they pushed each other or planted their heels into the ground, and it did not take Chancellor Roderick long to start some rant about how she needed to be executed. 

Lowri frowned, brushed it off, playing with the feathers of one of her remaining arrows. Decade old conversations with Leliana revealed that the male shems had no real power within the Chantry, at least not outside of Tevinter. 

“Everyone is dead, who is going to judge me? Nobody here seems to be supporting you,” Lowri’s hand left the arrow in the quiver and motioned to the party as well as Leliana. Whether it was purposefully or not, everyone stood on the opposite side of the table as the Chancellor. 

“We must elect a new Divine, and obey her orders on the matter,” Roderick’s shoulders lifted and fell, he had probably been having this conversation with Leliana ever since she got here. The conversation was clearly going in circles. The Chantry, Roderick, looking for guidance in regulations while Leliana and Cassandra were still devote to the deceased Justinia. 

Lowri shook her head and laughed, “Then elect a new Divine and if she orders you to arrest me, so be it. Until then, you have no authority, you have no warrant,” she crossed her arms. Hopefully the chaos created from both the Mage-Templar War and the destruction of the Conclave would postpone the election for just long enough for Lowri to escape again. 

“We must get to the Temple,” Cassandra stepped forward, ignoring the squabbling and changing the topic of the conversation to the more pressing issue at hand. The Temple of Sacred Ashes. Lowri had heard rumors after the Battle of Denerium that a few exhibitions were funded by the Chantry to determine the location of Andraste’s Ashes. Not that it would have mattered. Lowri sucked on her front teeth. She had desecrated the ashes after taking enough to heal that insufferable arse, Eamon. The Ashes did what they had been claimed to do, but no one had ever determined if they were the actual ashes of Andraste. She had to have known that the Conclave was going to be held there, why would she have willingly gone back to such a pivotal location? Lowri reached up and dragged a thumb across her lip. Why couldn’t she remember?

“How? You won’t survive long enough to reach the Temple, even with all your soldiers.” Roderick sighed, the energy he had once had for confrontation was no longer showing in his voice.

“Our forces can charge as a distraction while we go through the mountains,” Leliana perked up, pointing towards the mountains that loamed overhead. 

There was more to the conversation, but Lowri was not getting frustrated with her own inability to remember. She pulled on her lower lip as her eye darted back and forth, trying to remember something. She remembered her argument with her “Keeper.” She remembered packing traveling foods and extra clothing. She remembered everyone in Clan Lavellan wishing her luck, then, nothing. No, then she remembered waking up in that prison room earlier. But what happened in between? Why couldn’t she remember, dammit? She breathed in deeply through her nose and furrowed her eyebrows. 

“-ink we should proceed?” Cassandra’s voice startled Lowri back into the present. She only heard half the question but she didn’t need to ask for clarification, she knew what they were asking. They were asking her to lead them, again, even though they didn’t realize she had already once before. Her blood ran cold and her eyes locked with Leliana’s.

“We go through the mountain.”


	3. The Second Inquisition

Lowri was running. Or was she trying to run? Her feet were stuck in the ground and everything was shrouded in darkness and was foul-smelling. Her lungs burned as the thick air around her refused to be inhaled. 

“Run,” the voice was more like an itch inside of her ears.

Run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run. It made her skin crawl.

Run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run. And she wanted to, oh did she want to. She wanted to get away from whatever it was that was after her. Her chest tightened and eyes burned as she pulled at ankles. Every pull she made she sunk just a little bit deeper into the putrid mud.

“No, please,” she begged, tears streamed down her face. She pulled harder and sunk faster, the muscles in her back cramped from being hunched over for so long. How long had she been here for? Her breathes became quicker and shakier. 

Something moved in the corner of her eye. Something cracked from the opposite direction. “Somebody, please help me,” she called out. She tried to straighten herself up, but the mud shifted and she lost her balance. 

Lowri reached out with one hand to break her fall and realized too late her mistake. 

Run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run.

There was nothing for her to catch herself on. Just more darkness, more mud. “No, no, no, no, no,” each word was more desperate than the last as her arm was quickly engulfed. There was a wheezing noise just behind her and she whipped her head around, stretching her aching and twitching muscles the best that she could. Nothing. There was nothing behind her but more all-embracing darkness and bottomless mud. She swallowed hard, her eyes narrowed as she tried scanning what should be the horizon and followed it slowly until she was face to face with someone familiar. 

Lowri inhaled sharply in surprise and exhaled a shaky, throaty laugh. “Tamlen,” She smiled and reached out with her free hand. As she cupped his face, his lips spread and mimicked her smile. Her shoulders relaxed as her thumb brushed across the vallaslin that curled at the corners of his mouth.

Then she blinked.

Tamlen’s bright eyes glazed over and his blond hair fell out. He let out a long hiss, the same one he used all those years ago when the Blight sickness finally consumed him. When she watched her travel companions slay him while her voice was caught in her throat. When she held him in her arms and felt the life leave his body. After the Gauntlet had lied to her. When she still refused to say good bye. Her stomach sank and her blood ran cold as she pushed him back. 

Pushing his back was just the leverage she needed to pull her hand out of the mud. However, the remaining force sent her crashing backwards, rancid sludge spattering her body as her other hand slapped into the muck. 

Run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run. 

She looked around instinctively, looking for anything that could be used as a weapon. The only thing that met her gaze were throngs of beady little yellow eyes.

Run from the darkspawn. 

Lowri struggled against the mud, sinking further as the monstrosities loomed towards her effortlessly. Tears flowed silently down her temples as she realized that there was no way for her to survive this encounter. She clenched her jaw.

Their repulsive hands were cold as they gripped her shoulders and wrist and pushed her down. She ripped her wrist from their grasp and two of the creatures lunged at her, slamming her deeper into muck, wind knocked out of her. 

Her mouth trembled and her eyes flicked from pair of eyes to pair of eyes as the mud obscured her vision. The last thing she heard was a soft whistling that could have been described as a song.

-

Lowri awoke with a start, her body was cold. She rubbed her eyes and smeared her tears across her cheeks and temples. Something deep inside her sank, a grim realization of what that dream may have meant. Her Calling. That made it official, that shortened Grey Warden life span finally caught up with her. She pulled her knees into her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Every breath shook her body and she could hear her heart pounding in her ears, the slightly ajar window to her right, just open enough to allow a cool breeze to chill her damp skin. Lowri swallowed hard and reached up and touched her forehead.

Well, shit. She sighed and ran her fingers through hair, which loosened the wet, knotty mess and sent ribbons of hair cascading around her shoulders. She was going to have to tell Leliana. Leliana was going to have to figure out some way of getting in contact with Zevran. And then… and then… something felt out of place. There was an itchy, something in her head was trying to remember something.

She straightened her back and let her arms fall to the bed. Something was familiar but distant. She gripped the blanket underneath her. What couldn’t she remember? Eyebrows furrowed. What had she forgotten? 

The sounds of a squeaky door knob made Lowri jump and snapped her attention back to the world around her. She was in a single-roomed cottage, warmed only by any sunlight that came in through the windows. She instinctively patted her body down. No hidden weapon. Her eyes scanned the room; there was nothing that she could easily use as a weapon. The door started to slowly squeal open. What about escape routes? There was no way that she would be able to make it across the room unseen. However, she turned her head to look back over her shoulder, the slightly opened window next to her bed could be teased.

Without looking back, Lowri rolled to her knees and pushed the side window open further. It squeaked insistently and caused Lowri to grind her teeth together, a loud escape can be just as bad as no escape. Unfortunately she had no time to hesitate, she needed to get out of this room, find Leliana, get word out to Zevran and escape. 

She quietly slipped out of the window and slid to one knee on the snowy ground. Success. She grinned. Step one, escape from cottage undetected. Step two-

“There she is! The elf that sealed the sky.” Double shit. Lowri’s shoulders sagged as she looked up and around her, her smile faded.

Throngs of shems had gathered around her cottage. She was… surrounded and she was caught. She sucked on her teeth and sat back on one foot, nostrils flared. Anger and frustration boiled inside of her. She was unarmed and there were too many of them for her to kill. Triple shit. 

Lowri pursed her lips together as her eyes flicked across the first row in the crowd. Mostly women with small children, the elderly, and a few scrawny teenagers: everyone not fit for battle. There were a few distant murmurs but anyone that could see her had quickly grown still. 

As she stood up slowly, Lowri locked eyes with a tired looking women across from her who had her hand gripped tightly around the arm of a small squirming child that wanted nothing more than to be unshackled from her mother. Lowri blinked first and the child managed to escape and stumble towards her. Fear flashed across the caretaker's eyes as child took a few steps, then another few,

“Jenae! Maker's Breath, child! Stay away from the knif- elf!” the woman called and yet the child continued with no acknowledgment. Lowri blinked slowly and silently moved her gaze. She watched the child situate herself before rolling her head over her shoulder and popping the joints between her bones.

The child narrowed her eyes and followed suit, mimicking the motion. Lowri had no clue how to react. The only time she was ever good with children was years ago when she herself was one and the only children that she had to understand were the one that were already her friends. Plus, this was a shem child. Her mother was already about to piss herself and, to her knowledge, all Lowri had done was jump out of a window, hopefully. 

But she needed to find Leliana. Another glance around the crowd, that was now closing in, suggested that Leliana was not among the shems. 

The crowd was getting closer and closer and closer, closer, closer, closer, too close, too close, too close.

Run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run. 

“I need to find Leliana!” Lowri managed to stammer loudly, spooking the shems. The muscles in her legs twitched and her breathing became quick and shallow. She repeated herself, “Leliana, where is Leliana?” 

Run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run. 

The crowd stood still and remained quiet. Lowri took a step back and startled herself when her shoulders pressed against the cottage facade. 

Run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run. 

Run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run. 

Run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run. 

Run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run. 

“Lady Cassandra said you were to go to the Chantry as soon as you woke up,” Jenae finally broke the silence and pointed towards the largest building in Haven. 

Run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run, run. 

Lowri nodded and pushed off of the cottage before bolting into the crowd and shouldered shems aside. Zevran needed to know that she was dying alone. Lowri needed know that he knew.

-

Lowri pushed the large Chantry doors open, her forehead glistened with cold sweat.

The Chantry sisters muttered something about the Chantry and something about Roderick, something that she didn’t care about. Cassandra wanted her here and the angry purple shem would have answers.

And if she didn’t? Well, a few threats never harmed anyone, right? After all, since their wonderful introductions, it was only fair to return the favor after all. To refuse to repay someone’s hospitality would be very unbecoming of her as a Dalish elf. 

As she strode down the hall of the Chantry she dug her nails into her palms. Whatever nervous flutterings in her stomach that had made her queasy at the cottage were burned away and replaced by an anger that bubbled in her belly. It finally dawned on her that Cassandra of all things wanted to have a conversation. That Cassandra of all things had the audacity to order someone to give her a message to meet up. Lowri snorted, if only she knew. 

At the end of the hall stood a small wooden door. Noises of disgruntled man-shem could be heard from this side of the door. Despite being so loud, Roderick clearly didn’t feel like his argument was being heard. Lowri pushed the door open and was greeted by two stoic guards, Roderick, Cassandra, and, thank the Creators, Leliana. They stood around a large wooden table.

“Guards, chain her. I want her pre-“

“If your guards so much as lay a finger on me, they are dead. And their children are dead. And their children’s children are dead,” Lowri hissed, leaned back on her heels and crossed her arms. The guards remained stoic as ever, if her threat scared them in any way, they hide it well.

“She has to be prepared for trial.” Roderick huffed.

“Disregard that,” the voice came from Cassandra; an order that Lowri was not expecting, “and leave us.” The guards saluted and dipped out of the room, closing the door behind them as they left. Lowri’s lips parted slightly, too awestruck to think of some snide remark. Fortunately, or unfortunately, Roderick was still able to make threats:

“You walk a dangerous line, Seeker.” The mere sight of this guy made Lowri want to punch every shem in eyesight in the face but she gave him props for have a few feisty one-liners. 

“The Breach is stable, but it is still a threat,” Cassandra stood her ground, “I will not ignore it.”

There wasn’t even a moment’s breath before Lowri quipped up. 

“And you need my help, right? You wouldn’t have called me here and interfered with my arrest otherwise,” her armed uncrossed from her chest and rested on her hips, a smirk spread her lips, “whatever this thing is on my hand, you need it,” something deep in Lowri’s stomach sank as a cold shiver crawled across her skin. The smirk dropped when her mouth filled with something that she could only describe as the disgust or maybe the abhorrence that came with realization, “You need me.” 

At this point she would much rather be arrested and held on trial. It would have meant she was negligible. Escaping Fort Drakon in the middle of a Blight as one of two remaining Fereldan Wardens had been a synch; how hard would an Orlesian prison break be in the middle of major religious conflict? 

Lowri turned her head, rose a hand to eye-level and locked eyes with Leliana, “All in favor of throwing me into prison, say aye.” Her red-haired veteran may have closed her eyes and lifted a corner of her lips, but it was short lived. Her shoulders sagged and her forehead dipped as the opened her eyes apologetically.

“Your Mark is our only chance at closing the Breach,” Lowri knew better than to take Leliana’s comment as an apology. Despite her trainings as a Bard, Leliana was straightforward; if she was sexually interested then she would flirt, if she was angry with the defiling of Andraste’s Ashes then she would draw her weapon, if she was apologetic then she would explicitly say that she was sorry. There was no sorry here. Shit.

“Aye,” Roderick snorted, reminding everyone in the room that he was still present, “this is not for you to dec-”

Cassandra slammed a book on the table, interrupting the clerk, “this is a writ from the Divine, granting us the authority to act,” the purple shem stared at him and leaned on the table, a position Lowri knew all too well from intimidating weak shems, “I declare the Inquisition reborn,” she pushed off the table and stepped a few paces and shoved a finger into Roderick’s chest, “we will close the Breach, we will find those responsible, and we will restore order with or without your approval.” 

Roderick’s face grimaced in disgust as eyed the warrior up and down. He weighed his options before he ground his teeth, spun on his heels, and slammed the door behind him as he left. Lowri watched him, some sarcastic quip held on the tip of her tongue. 

“Cassandra, we have no leaders, no numbers, and now, no Chantry support. We aren’t ready.” Leliana hissed in disagreement. 

The purple shem clenched her fists and stood her ground, “We have no choice; there is no use in running in circles, waiting for an opportunity that may never come, all the while our world burns around us,” her hands relaxed and Cassandra turned her shoulders to face Lowri.

Lowri rolled her eyes and breathed deeply; it was obvious to her where this conversation was going. It was like knowing a romantic confession was coming and not wanting to hear it; it was like being told the love of your life was gone and you weren’t even allowed to grieve over a body; it was like being told that leaving the only people you ever knew was the only way that you could survive; it was like being told that you were the only one that could save the world, again. 

“We must act now… with you by our side,”

Lowri sucked on her teeth and rolled her head over a shoulder before it hung back. She shook her head as she stared at the dark and gritty ceiling above her. Once again she really had no choice. 

Marethari’s voice echoed in her head, “We cannot out run this storm… this is your duty,” 

Lowri snorted, she had refused all those years ago and it had resulted in her being exiled and abandoned. That was a betrayal that had taken years for her to come to terms with. She had hurt many people along the way. She pressed her fingers to her mouth and closed her eyes. Would her refusal hurt Zevran? Lowri rolled her head forward, exhaled, and crossed her arms,

“We’ll see how it goes.” She whispered, agreeing to help once more despite every part of her screaming to not. 

Cassandra extended an open hand, “help us fix this, before it’s too late.” 

Lowri opened her eyes and flicked her gaze down to the shem’s hand, then up to the shem’s face, then over to Leliana, then back to the hand. She grimaced. She felt sick and her mouth filled with something that tasted like coins. Lowri turned on her heels and walked out of the room.


	4. The Threat Remains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I posted this pre-maturely. Between wanting to get something written and posted for the first time in a while and a friend urging me to get it finished, I left out a lot of.... details that I feel make the chapter just more finished feeling. Rather than deleting the chapter and re-posting it at a later date, I'm just going to edit it every now and again. Nothing plot wise will be added, just additional actions and descriptions as a lot of this chapter is Lowri standing around and talking to Leliana. While sometimes just having dialogue helps with the tone, I don't feel it fits well with the previous chapters. When I am satisfied with the edits I'll just change the publication date. Hopefully, I learned my lesson for the next chapter.

Lowri had stayed in her… room for a day or so with little to no interruption. It wasn't really a full living space. The decor only consisted of a bed, a desk, and a storage basket. There was probably never any intention of living long term when the building was designed. In fact, it may have been used for storage. From what she could remember of her visit during The Fifth Blight, she wouldn't have exactly called the place homely. 

 

She rested an elbow on the windowsill and and smushed her cheek into her palm. She sighed and puffed her hair put of her face and returned her focus to the crowds outside. It wasn't like there was anything else to do. The basket was empty and the drawers in the desk wouldn't open. At least, at first they didn't. Feeling challenged, Lowri had pulled on one of the handles until rotted wood ripped and sent her crashing into the frame of the bed on the opposite wall. The rest of the drawer, and possibly what ever contents there had been, were equally as decayed. The desk was probably original to Haven and a decade of abandonment tends to leave things uncared for. 

 

For the most part, she watched the shems that huddled around from the window over her bed to kill time. The wall of eyes that encircled the hut had slowly dissipated. They were either so desensitized to the idea that some ‘unruly Dalish elf’ was taking up residency among them or simple too busy to be bothered now. The Jenae child-shem would occasionally pass within eyeshot, jumping from one footstep to the next while she followed her mother. Sometimes she helped carry baskets, other times her mother would turn around abruptly, say something that Lowri was too far away to make out, then carry on her way, leaving Jenae shrugging her shoulders and pouting. 

 

During one of these alteractions the child-shem caught Lowri watching. She had perked up immediately and waved. Lowri stiffened abruptly at being caught and turned her back on the window. She paused a moment before looking back over her shoulder out the corner of her eye. Child-Shem had stopped waving and puffed up her chest, her knuckles planted proudly on her hips when she noticed Lowri's peaking. Blush colored her cheekbones and the tips of her ears before spun away from the window again. Creators have mercy. 

 

The few times she did directly interact with another were when the elven servents of some quasi-noble brought her food.The elves claimed Leliana had given them orders to bring her food. Despite Lowri's best, attempt, attempt being the key word as she was never good with small talk and pleasantries, she could never manage to provoke a conversation. Tamlen had once complimented her take-no-shit attitude but she was never sure if it was a gift or a curse. It was never the same servant and they were always skittish when they knocked on the door. Was it never the same elf because Leliana never sent the same one or because they feared being in her presence? Lowri shook her head. It didn’t matter. 

 

Green sparks crackled, drawing her attention to her hand and caused her to grimace in surprise. Despite dealing with this new... gift of hers for more than a whole day, she had grown no more use to the abruption than when she was held prisoner in the dungeon.

 

The magic did remind her of what she still needed to do though: get Leliana to contact Zevran. She bit her lip nervously before she sighed and pushed herself off of the bed. Time to face the shems again. One of the elves had hurridly mentioned that the bard was set up in a tent across from the chantry doors the one time when Lowri managed to conversation right. So that was as good a place as any to start.

 

Lowri meandered her way through the crowds, walking around small groups of shems who muttered quickly while exchanging items, and wandered past what smelled very much like a makeshift pub and apothecary. Her eyes darted around, taking in various markers. She wanted to remember where exactly the alcohol was, hopefully they would have Antivan Sip-Sip. Lowri smirked to herself, even if they didn’t now, she would make sure they would be well stocked soon. Or else. Not much of Haven had changed since the killed the cultists that were scurrying around and worshiping the high dragon. It was still snowy and like vermin, zealous shems quickly occupied the small, drafty cabins.

 

 For the most part it was an easy walk, albeit stressful. The new residents were lively enough to pack down paths in the snow; much different from the knee deep mounds her small party trudged through oh so long ago. Only a few curious eyes followed her steps. Good, the less people that pay attention to her, the less likely she will be missed, the less likely that she would be recognized. But she was still one body against many angry and distraught shems. She was almost suspicious when no one spat at her or threatened her. Letting her guard down was never something thay came naturally to her, alcohol was usually required, but this time around, she may have described it as refreshing.

Lowri lifted her head, confident for the first time in.... Creators, how long had it been since she and Tamlen were children? Everything was going perfectly smoothly so fa-

 

“Your kind let her die!” Commotion directly in front of the gates of the Chantry, right in front of Leliana’s tent. _Shit._ Lowri’s heartbeat quickened and she sighed and rolled her eyes. _Shem’s would always find a way to blame elves for their own fucking problems._ That was until she realized the accusation wasn’t about her.

 

“Shut your mouth mage-” _Ah, mages. The shems hate them too._ The crowd slowly grew as more bodied pressed against each other, each eager for some sort of entertainment that wasn't throwing rocks at hungry foxes.

 

“Enough!” A third man interrupted the argument just as Lowri approached the edge of the clearing, just close enough to make out the individuals participating in the altercation. Although it wasn't the sight of the man that she recognized at first, it was his voice. It was a voice that refused to accept that she was no mere illusion, that begged her to kill all the remaining mages that were even within ear shot of Uldred, that spat at her when she refused, that scoffed when his Knight-Commander agreed to her use of the Fereldan mages in the final battle against Urthemiel. She had hoped that he had died while the Blight ruined the country. Apparently not.

 

_Double shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit._

 

Lowri stopped dead in her track, sweat budding its way on her forehead and in the creases around her nose.

 

“Knight-Captain,” the accusing shem seemed rattled by the interruption. But this wasn’t time to be mocking the shem for being soft-bellied. Lowri’s stomach.

 

“That is not my title,” the interrupter hissed as he wedged himself between the two men and pushed them apart.

 

Lowri felt the blood drain from her face and the tips of her fingers grew cold. This could not be happening. _No, no, no, no, no, no, Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit._ Leliana was one thing but this…. this shem held no loyalties to her, no reason to not blow her cover. The useless blond shem from the Fereldan Circle was back to create more problems. Lowri’s mouth went dry as she breathed through it. The Creators were mocking her.

 

“We are not templars any longer. We are all part of the Inquisition.” Useless-Shem pointed disapprovingly toward the templar and turned with a long stare at the mage.

 

Lowri’s knees were weak underneath her. Why was building an army and facing down a blasted Archdemon in a year less terrifying than running into a shem, whose name she couldn’t even remember, almost 10 years after leaving him to rot in some magical torture-prison? They had looked each other in the eyes 10 years ago, there was no way he could have forgotten her. And Knight-Captain? Shit, he had the prestige and respect to back up any sort of claim he made about her. Just one just-too-loud remark about her being the Hero of Fereldan and that was going to spread like wildfire through Haven. Because for whatever reason shems enjoyed their gossip.

 

Despite the cool breeze, a bead of sweat managed to pool and drip down the side of Lowri’s head. What was she going to do? There were too many people involved in this… this Inquisition.

 

_Stupid shems and their stupid gossip and their stupid memories and stupid everything._

 

Words raced through Lowri’s head. Ideas popping up in her mind about what to do next. And just as she felt like screaming, she blinked, swallowed hard, and nodded. She knew what she was going to have to do.

 

_Kill him._

 

It was simple. He had to die before he recognized her and his death would have to be inconspicuous. She continued to nodd to herself. He had to die before he catalyzed the events that would lead the Crows straight to her and through her to Zevran. Maybe it would happen at night… she should probably take out Purple-Shem too, make it look like an assassinat-

 

“Yes, and what does that mean exactly?” A smug yet far too recognizable voice pulled Lowri out of her murder fantasy. Roderick. Apparently the cleric still had nothing better to do than get under everyone’s skin. Why do shems keep around such useless individuals? Lowri rolled her eyes.

 

No. Wait. No, this was the perfect opportunity to sneak passed the crowd.

 

“You are a blessing from the Creators, Roderick,” Lowri smirked as she breathed, her body relaxing as she moved to take advantage of the distraction.

 

There was a small hand full of tents set up across from the Chantry. Each seemed to be dedicated to some particularly important but ultimately inane purpose. Requisitions, prayer circles, militia enlistment, shems just huddling to keep warm. Lowri pressed herself as close to the tent canvasses as possible as she weaved her way to the bard’s tent.

 

“Back already, Cha-” the blond shem huffed in what may have been amusement or maybe annoyance, like _everything else,_ it didn’t matter.

 

“He needs to die, I’ve thought it through and it’s the only option, Leliana,” Lowri blurted as she her way into the tent and faced the redhead.

 

Leliana stood with her arms crossed, her hushed whispers with a warmly dressed scout stopped abruptly as she looked over her shoulder to face the other rogue.

 

“There were so many questions surrounding this death… he knows where the other agents are,” Leliana nodded in agreement and paused before she turned back to the scout, “you know what must be done.”

 

Lowri blinked and shook her head sudden confusion when the scout nodded briefly.

 

“I didn’t think you would actually kill Useless-Shem,” she gestured over her shoulder with a thumb and stepped to the side to give Leliana a clear view of the argument happening outside, “so quickly. If I may add, I think it should happen at night and Purple-Shem should also die. We can make this look like an assassination of Inquisition forces.” Lowri’s voice trailed as she brought her hand to her face and bounced her fingers on her lips, partly deep in thought, partly because the idea tickled her fancy.

 

Leliana’s brow furrowed.

 

“What? No, my best agent was killed last night,” Leliana squared her shoulders and dropped her arms to her sides. The scout paused in the confusion. Lowri’s fingers stopped bouncing.

 

“Oh,” Lowri sucked in a cheek and chewed on it, embarrassment tinting her cheek bones, “well, shit then.” Anxiety started to stab at her stomach again as her mind started racing through possible decisions. No other idea satisfied the elf as much as killing shems that threatened her, or in Cassandra’s case, attempted to threaten her.

 

“Make it clean, painless, if you can,” The redhead looked back to her scout, “we were friends once,” Lowri rubbed the palm of her hand across her cheek, huffed and leaned against one of the structure supports of the tent. What she did not do was speak up and interfere with Leliana’s order of execution. A dead shem was a good shem after all, yes? Lowri crossed her arms as the scout nodded and turned out of the ten. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” Leliana muttered.

 

“Sorry I had to see that? I’m actually surprised you made _that_ decision,” Lowri almost chuckled the response, “the princess stabby-stab that I remember from Lothering would have cried if she saw you make that choice.”

 

“You think that decision was easy?” Leliana’s head jerked quickly in Lowri’s direction, shaking strands of red hair loose from the cowl, “I just ordered the death of a man that I once trusted!” Leliana clenched her fists to keep them from shaking by her sides.

 

Lowri shook her head, “I thought we got past this after we dealt with Marjolaine,” she sighed and pushed off of the post, “I told you not to punish yourself for doing something you enjoy,” Lowri leaned forward, balancing her weight on her heels then straightened up and blew a few strands of blonde hair out of her face, “but it seems you’re right back at square one.” The elf squared up her shoulders, lined her feet up with her hips, and planted her hands firmly on her hips. She was able to intimidate Leliana down once before, it should be no problem doing it again.

 

“Everything I do is to protect _our_ interests!” Leliana ground her teeth as she pushed a threatening foot forward. Lowri was barely able to prevent herself from laughing the bard’s face. However, the humor quickly turned to rage.

 

“ _Our_ interests? You have no idea what my interests are. We have no common interests, Leliana. I’m only interested in leaving behind these filthy shems to wallow in their own uselessness before someone recognizes me,” Leliana’s comment had stung. Lowri ground her teeth together and waved her cursed hand feverishly through the air. It was difficult not to yell, “and the Taint kills me, or… or…or the Crows…” Lowri stuttered as tears welled up in her eyes. Although she knew there was a high possibility, she had never actually admitted it out loud, “catch up with Zevran. Awful things happen every day, I would have thought you’d have gotten used to it by now. And you just want to save the world, again! Wasn’t one time enough?”

 

“Get used to being a pawn? To be discarded when the Maker is done with me? He demands repentance, our lives, our deaths. Justinia gave Him everything she had and he let her die. If the Marker doesn’t intervene to save the best of His servants; what good is he? It was all for nothing.” Leliana’s eyes locked with Lowri’s as the two rogues stood and waited for the other to attack first.

 

Lowri would never have explicitly called Leliana a friend, she was originally just another body to fling at the darkspawn after all. But watching her survive for a year left Lowri with, at the very least, respect in the bard’s fighting skills and a trust she would have her back. And, for whatever reason, Leliana was the only _shem_ that Lowri opened up to. Leliana was the only one who knew how much she blamed the shems for taking away elven history, elven language, for taking away Tamlen, for Tainting her, and exiling her from the only family she had ever known. Sure, most of this information was exchanged during heated arguments rooted deeply in differences in personal paradigms but, the arguments never caused one party to distance themselves from the other. Maybe it was out of fear of what the other could do with that sort of information. Maybe it was simply kinship and how their relationship worked.

 

And for the most part Leliana had been there for her. She could have easily announced that Lowri was the mysterious and legendary ‘Hero of Fereldan’ when Cassandra was lumbering around like a druffalo. But ‘our interests’ stung. Lowri shut her eyes as angry tears burned down her face. It was a cheap shot… no it wasn’t cheap… it was obsession. Leliana needed this ridiculous act of heroic validation and damn who got dragged along the way.  And maybe some part of Leliana recognized this; the redhead stepped back and looked away.

 

“You are right; I had not considered that Cullen could recognize you after all these years,” Leliana swallowed hard and turned her back.  “It won’t happen again.”

 

It wasn’t an apology; there had never been a true apology between the two and chances are there never would be. Lowri relaxed her shoulders and opened her eyes, suddenly aware of the frosty chill in the ai-

 

Wait.

 

Cu-? Wha-? The useless shem’s name was Cullen? Lowri groaned.

 

“I’m gonna kill him, he’s dead,” the elf rolled her eyes and shrugged, giving the whole statement an air of exasperation, “with a stupid name like that, any creature would benefit from being put out of their misery.” Lowri shook her head, turning away from Leliana to lift the tent flap and peaked outside. Fortunatly for her, the crowd had dispersed and Useless-Shem was nowhere in sight.

 

“Come now. It must be time for you to meet the other advisors.” Leliana moved slightly. She may have smirked but it was as equally possible that she too, rolled her eyes or perhaps she grit her teeth.


End file.
